


Looking Back One Day

by Calliatra



Category: NCIS
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-09
Updated: 2011-10-09
Packaged: 2017-10-24 10:44:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/262588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calliatra/pseuds/Calliatra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If Kate had known May 24th would be her last day she probably would have done some things differently.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Looking Back One Day

**Disclaimer:** All recognizable NCIS characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

 

* * *

 

The bullet had taken Kate completely by surprise. It would have done the same to anyone. Who could possibly have anticipated taking a round to the vest in a shootout and then getting up only to have a sniper put a hole in their head? It had caught her completely unawares, and then her life was over. If Kate had known May 24th would be her last day she probably would have done some things differently.

She could have started with a small gesture, by being just a little bit nicer to McGee. He was just worrying about her, caring about a teammate. Instead of insisting on being tough she could have maybe shown a little appreciation. He was a good kid, he didn’t really deserve as much hazing as she and Tony were putting him through. _Had_ put him through. It was just Tony, now.

She could have been a little nicer to Tony, too – not that he hadn’t deserved the way she treated him. Spreading rumors about her (breast implants, of all things!), tricking her with the snake… she was merely giving as good as she got. In the end, though, his pranks were only those of an over-grown frat boy, covering up the fact that DiNozzo wasn’t nearly as sure of himself as he pretended to be. She hadn’t thought about it much, but she’d known it; she wasn’t trained as a profiler for nothing.

She could have acted on that knowledge, if only a little. Let him know that yes, she had been worried about him and yes, she was glad he was back. Instead she had done what her brothers had taught her early on was necessary to play in the boys club: be tough and don’t act like a girl.

She probably shouldn’t have kicked Tony, but of all the things she would do differently, this wasn’t one of them. If she hadn’t, Tony wouldn’t have fallen to the ground, wouldn’t have seen the bomb, and they’d all be dead now. Funny, how they hadn’t even really stopped to think about that. Or the fact that Tony had risked his life for theirs without so much as a second thought.

That last prank, building up Tony’s hopes only to destroy them in a splash of cold water, that had been cruel. That had been deliberately playing on his insecurities, and she had known even at the time that she was outside their usual realm of teasing and prodding, but for better or for worse that was the kind of response Tony provoked in her. The bickering, the constant one-upmanship, this need to come out on top.

She had been so desperate to get things back to normal that she had concentrated completely on that and pushed aside all caring even more than usual. She hadn’t wanted to think about Tony lying under blue lights, coughing up blood. Dying slowly of the plague while she could only watch. She hadn’t wanted to think about how he was still weakened, how he really shouldn’t have been back at work yet. She had been so focused on ignoring his mortality that she had ignored his feelings in the process. He was the one who had faced death, after all, and who had to still be feeling exhausted and vulnerable.

She should have kissed him instead. It would have messed with his head just as much, but in a much kinder way. Plus he _had_ just saved all their lives. And if she was honest with herself, it kind of, sort of had been on her bucket list. Just once, just to see what it was like. Maybe a bit of morbid curiosity? She certainly _hadn’t_ wanted to sleep with him, no matter what anybody said about Freudian slips. Not that that mattered anymore.

One thing she wouldn’t have changed was the way she set about protecting Gibbs. It was what she was trained to do, and she did it well. Even Gibbs had admitted it, in his own way. His if not willing, then at least unresisting cooperation had as much to do with his respect for her as it did with Director Morrow’s orders, and she would have taken a second to bask in it if she hadn’t been so busy worrying about everything that could possibly go wrong.

That dream she had had wasn’t the first of its kind and whatever Tony may have wanted to think, it had nothing to do with Gibbs personally, either. Her worst nightmare had always been losing the person she was charged with protecting. The danger to her own life she had never given much thought. She had known, of course, that she was risking it, but she was never scared for herself. It was something she had learned in the Secret Service: be prepared to take the proverbial – or actual – bullet for your charge, but don’t live in expectation of it. The bullet she had taken in the end had been meant for her.

She was lucky she’d always been on good term with her family. If she had known her fate she might have called parents, or maybe her sister one last time, but the fact that she hadn’t was no great regret. Her family loved her and was proud of her, and most importantly they all knew the feeling was mutual. One more phone call would have been nice, but thankfully not important.

Then they had been off chasing terrorists and saving the country and up on that rooftop in what seemed like the blink of an eye. Throwing herself in the path of a bullet meant for another, now that would have been a heroic way to go. She wouldn’t have changed the way that turned out, though, would still have worn a vest. And not only for the fact that if she had dared to die taking a bullet for him, Gibbs would have killed her. No, those last few moments were just too precious. They’d stopped the terrorist cell, saved the Navy families and reached an all-round happy ending. Even Gibbs had been smiling, satisfied and relieved and proud of them, of her.

“Wow. I thought I’d die before I ever heard a com-” Her last words weren’t what she had imagined, and some might say she had been tempting fate by laughing in the face of death. To those people she would have said that it was a bad habit she had picked up from Tony, and that if fate was seeking retribution it had better be on him. More than anything else her last words were ironic, and hauntingly so. If she had known what they were going to be, she would have said she could live with them, and kept a straight face.

In the end she had died quickly and not undignifiedly, surrounded by friends – family, really – and wasn’t that what everyone hoped for? She wouldn’t have left life if it had been up to her, but fate had had other plans. Well, technically it had been an insane terrorist with kind eyes and a sniper rifle, but Kate has was a catholic has as such always believed in a higher power, a plan. If she had known she was going to die the way she did, she wouldn’t have raged against the unfairness of it. She had had a good life. A short one that she would have liked to continue, but a good life, and she could find peace with the way it ended.

 

Whether the people she left behind can is another matter entirely. Her family is thankfully remarkably sane; she has no doubt losing her will hurt them deeply, but it won’t destroy them. They will grieve, and maybe wish and search for answers that don’t exist, but in time they will find peace, of that she is sure.

Her teammates are another matter. They are all damaged in their own ways, and she had often thought how Rachel would have a field day with them. She knows her death will mark them permanently, and she hopes it won’t be in too drastic a way.

Ducky is the one she is least worried about. Nothing ever seemed to throw him off his equilibrium and while her death will shake him, he knows how to handle loss, how to mourn without letting it break him. He knows how to talk to the dead, and how to keep them alive in memory. The team relies on his stability, and will have to turn to him now more than ever.

As unbelievable as it might seem to an outsider, Kate knows Abby is the other sane one. She doesn’t hold back, she embraces her humanity and her emotions, and that is why she can laugh happy memories even while the pain is still searingly fresh. It looks like she finally gave Kate that makeover she always wanted to do. She and Abby had become close friends and there is no question that Abby will miss her terribly, but the sheer fact that she lets herself grieve promises that she will be all right in time. Her openness has a way of making everyone else drop their guard around her, and Kate hopes she will be able to help the others along the same path.

It’s no surprise that Tony is still trying to see her naked. He’s seen too much tragedy and projecting immaturity and humor is the only way he knows how to deal with it. Goading her like he did when she was alive lets him indulge, just for a moment, in the fantasy that she isn’t lying on a slab in autopsy with the back of her head missing. It’s much the same thing as she was doing not so many hours earlier. It’s his barrier against the pain and anger boiling inside him, making him lash out at McGee. Yes, Tony she is worried about. She can only hope Abby will pull him into one of her crushing hugs and make him see that refusing to accept all emotions isn’t what makes him strong.

McGee has no idea what he’s dealing with. He is so young, so inexperienced, and everyone else is so caught up in their own grief that they don’t stop to realize that he’s never faced anything like this before. He has no coping mechanism because he hasn’t had to cope before. So he takes whatever comfort he can from his suddenly-nice boss and tries out Tony’s strategy in the meantime. Kate knew he had a bit of a hero-worshipping crush on her, and though she would headslap him into tomorrow if she could, she doesn’t really begrudge him his fantasy. She _does_ look good in that costume. Mainly, though, McGee doesn’t realize what her death means. He knows she’s gone, but he just doesn’t have the experience with loss to feel the impact of ‘never coming back’ yet. It’s why, to the others, he is coming across as insensitive – he simply doesn’t know the full extent of this kind of loss yet. The truth will settle in in time, and though it will hit him hard he will handle it well enough, of that she is sure. She always thought he was surprisingly well-balanced.

Gibbs is the complete opposite. He has been hit with loss worse and more often than most people know; there is nothing about her death that is unfamiliar territory to him. He blames the impact on his being a chauvinist, but if it had been McGee he would have said he was too young, if it was Tony that he had known him for too long. Even to himself he doesn’t like to admit how much he cares. Kate wishes she could stop haunting Gibbs, but it’s not her ghost he’s seeing, it’s his own demons. Where she would have told him it wasn’t his fault, that there was nothing he could have done, his mind is bombarding him with accusations. He offers no defense. It seems his demons are the one thing he will not, cannot fight. Gibbs has been so marked by pain already, however, that Kate knows she will only be one among many faces. Her death might make him a little colder, a little harder, a little sadder, but he will fundamentally stay the same man she knew. She doesn’t know if that’s a good thing, but she’s sure it’s not a bad one.

Kate is sorry about what her death is doing to her loved ones. If she could she would show them her perspective. It’s easier for her, she knows, since she moves on while they stay behind, bereaved, but maybe if they knew she was at peace with her passing, they could be, too. Yes, if there was one thing she could change, she would tell them that it’s okay. She can’t, though, which leaves them to figure that out by themselves.

 

* * *


End file.
